


Caught in the Undertow

by Hidari



Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Princes & Princesses, Romance, Secret Relationship, Smut, Step-Sibling Incest, WIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hidari/pseuds/Hidari
Summary: Entangled in a secret affair with her stepbrother, Princess Lucette balks before her upcoming debutante ball.





	Caught in the Undertow

* * *

_"I was just remembering how much you hated me back then, and now… here we are."_

* * *

Evening had fallen over Angielle, and a lazy breeze tickled the curtains framing the open palace windows. Mere months had passed since the fearful unrest of Alcaster’s attempted coup, and perhaps it was simply the heavy heat of summer, but already the kingdom had settled into a blithe, languid state of peace. Since her return, Princess Lucette had been spending her days in a blur of schooling at the palace, learning magic under the witch Delora and the fairy Parfait, and socializing outdoors alongside her stepsister Emelaigne. It crossed her mind that without her newfound powers bestowed by the Tenebrarum, she might be too exhausted to function; just a year ago she had been living the sedentary life of a caged bird.

Lucette’s only real respite nowadays was the stolen time she spent with her… brother. It felt wrong to call Rod as such, but within the palace walls and in the public eye, that was all he was. She recalled the day she met him five years prior; back then the notion of referring to him as her brother choked her with distaste, but for quite different reasons. He was a commoner, the son of a lowly baker, the male counterpart to the women who she once believed contrived to steal her royal birthright. But unlike his sister Emelaigne and his mother Ophelia, Rod wouldn’t even bother with niceties. His demeanor was as frigid as his appearance—pale and thin, with faded blond hair and cold blue eyes. He looked perpetually bored at best, sullen at worst, and Lucette had just been glad that he kept to himself and minded his own business. In many regards, they weren’t so different.

Yet in the tumultuous events of the past year, it was their similarities that drew them together—first as allies, then friends, and now each other’s beloved. Lucette understood Rod implicitly. She knew his stubbornness was born of principles, a self-sacrificing stoicism that belied a sensitive heart. She could tell when he was being coy, and when he was merely being blunt. She’d come to love him deeply, and her heart ached over the necessity of concealing their illicit romance. Only Emelaigne knew and approved; it seemed painfully obvious that nobody else would accept their relationship, which despite not being incestuous by blood was indecorous nonetheless. 

Tonight, Rod sat across from Lucette at the palace dining table. He flashed her a secretive smile over the gilded candelabra and lush floral arrangements, and Lucette felt her cheeks heat as she smiled back. The clinking of cutlery and chatter between her father, Ophelia, and Emelaigne dwindled into nonsense while she met his provocative gaze. Tomorrow afternoon, Emelaigne would cover for her and she would slip off to meet Rod in the nearby forest. She could hardly wait to speak candidly and be wrapped in his arms, just the two of them, and nobody else to judge…

“Lucette,” King Genaro began, and she started from her reverie. “It’s wonderful how you’ve been spending so much time outside with the people of Angielle. Everyone speaks highly of you, and we are all so proud of you.” Genaro paused to cast a warm smile around the table, and Lucette inclined her head politely in acknowledgment. “You’ve truly grown into a lovely young woman, and Ophelia and I would like to discuss preparations for your first ball next month.”

Lucette blinked and opened her mouth, but it was Rod that spoke. 

“A ball?”

His voice was constricted, and everyone glanced at him in surprise. His fingers were tensed around his silver fork, and he stared at Genaro with a blank expression. Ophelia’s smile wavered uncomfortably as she cleared her throat.

“Yes,” said Ophelia. “There’s certainly no rush for Lucette to be engaged, but a ball will help her begin considering her options. It’s the best way for you all to meet appropriate suitors.” Rod’s lips tightened, and his mother continued. “You and Emelaigne will be there too, of course.”

“I think it could be fun,” Emelaigne added weakly, and there were daggers in Rod’s eyes. Only Genaro seemed oblivious to the tense pall that had dropped over the family dinner table, and he turned once more to Lucette.

“Please consider this, Lucette. It’s an important step forward for your future, and… it would make me very happy.”

Lucette felt a dull pounding in her chest. In the corner of her vision, Rod was gazing silently into his plate. Emelaigne’s eyebrows knitted in sympathy as Ophelia and Genaro waited with eager expectation.

“I will consider it,” she replied hollowly, and her father beamed.

It hurt to look at Rod, and for the remainder of dinner, Lucette found herself unable to do so. She let him become obscured behind the violet bloom of centerpiece flowers, and by the time she finally mustered the courage to see his face, he was already excusing himself from the table as a servant collected his half-eaten meal.

* * *

The next day, Lucette made her furtive departure from the palace via the hidden passageway. The walk through the cold, dim tunnel seemed longer than usual, and when she finally made her exit, the midday light was blinding. She tugged her cowl lower over her eyes and hurried toward the forest.

Songbirds twittered as she weaved her way through the mossy trees. Their chirps fell silent when she paused at the edge of a glade. Rod was already there waiting, clad in a plain tunic and sitting cross-legged in the green carpet of grass. His hair gleamed bright gold in the sunlight, and his brow was furrowed as he fiddled intently with a torn leaf. He hadn’t noticed her yet; he appeared deep in thought, and a woven picnic basket sat untouched beside him.

He looked up as Lucette padded toward him, and she’d scarcely knelt before him when his arms were already wrapping around her shoulders. She exhaled, relaxing forward into the solid warmth of his body. 

“There’s nothing wrong with us, or what we’re doing,” Rod said suddenly. “I hope you know that.”

Lucette closed her eyes and breathed in slowly against Rod’s shirt. He smelled comfortingly masculine beneath the scent of the palace’s rose oil soap. “I know that,” she said, and he clutched her tighter.

“I need you to know that I’m not afraid of what anyone thinks.” His voice was low, and he spoke with slower deliberation. “That’s not why we’re… why I’m like this with you.”

Lucette drew back to look Rod in the eye. His face was solemn and faintly drawn, as if from poor rest. She smiled wryly and took his hand in her lap. “I’m not afraid of what other people think either,” she said. “Don’t forget that I’m a witch. For much of Angielle’s history, people hated witches, and they hated me too. But I know that most witches are good, and so am I. Nobody’s opinion changes the truth. Likewise, I’ll never be ashamed to be with you, even if you are my brother.”

Lucette’s smile was gentle, and Rod’s wide blue eyes glistened. As maturely as he carried himself, it was moments of vulnerability like this that reminded Lucette that he was still quite young, two years her junior. He blinked and quickly pressed her close once more, burying his face in her braids of hair. His voice was muffled when he spoke. 

“I love you, and I want you to be happy.” His chest shook with his breathing, and Lucette stroked his back. “More than anything, I want you to be happy.”

“I love you, Rod. You make me happy.”

He squeezed her softly and then paused to compose himself. He peeled back and began to occupy himself with the picnic basket, setting out a flask of lemonade and two fluted glasses.

“I’m glad you agreed to your ball last night,” he said, gaze trained downward as he poured carefully. “It was the right decision for you and our family.” He held out Lucette’s drink, looking at her now with a serious expression.

Lucette frowned and ignored the proffered glass. “I didn’t say yes,” she corrected. “I said that I would consider it, because last night at dinner was not an appropriate time to discuss my refusal. I have no intention of entertaining balls or meeting suitors for marriage, and I’ll explain that to Father in private.”

Rod set the lemonade down to the side, face still impassive. “Wouldn’t you just see it through? Perhaps you’ll change your mind. Our parents would appreciate it if you at least tried.”

“I’ve already made my decision. It would be rude to waste everyone’s time.”

Rod was silent, and Lucette watched him with a flicker of frustration as he returned his attention to the picnic basket, placing plates on the grass and pulling out a package of plump strawberries and freshly glazed pastries. They smelled mouthwateringly-sweet, but the tension in the air was hardly whetting Lucette’s appetite.

“Please don’t say or do things just for my sake,” Rod said finally. “You never need to do that.”

Lucette grasped his knee and leaned forward, prompting his attention with an edge of impatience. “You’re not listening to me,” she told him, and Rod’s gaze dropped away to the side. “I want you.”

“I want you too, but that’s not…”

“What would it take to convince you?” Lucette lowered her voice, inches from Rod’s reddening face. She slid her other hand to cup his jaw, tilting her head to brush her lips softly against his. Rod’s breath hitched quietly in his throat, and his posture stiffened when she pressed her mouth more firmly.

Cutlery fell to the ground from Rod’s grasp as their kiss deepened. His mouth was warm and wet, and Lucette’s tongue slipped to taste him as she wound her fingers up through the silky roots of his hair. It was hardly their first kiss, but to Lucette, somehow it was the most thrilling one yet. Something in Rod’s startled reaction excited her, and the heat of his ragged breathing only spurred her further.

No words were exchanged as Lucette guided his shaking hands to her body. He held her waist tentatively at first, but his hold soon melted into the familiar confidence of a dancing position. He wavered again as Lucette clasped his hands and dragged them upward to the swell of her breasts.

“Lucette,” he whispered in surprise; his husky whisper made her blood course. She leaned to touch her lips to Rod’s ear, and his shiver emboldened her. 

“If you charmed me at my ball,” she said slyly, “Do you suppose this is what we’d be doing afterward?” Even as she spoke, Lucette was taken aback by her own brazenness; her heart hammered in her chest, and surely Rod felt the patter beneath his palm. She’d never considered herself seductive, but his blushing lack of composure made it seem effortless. 

“I’m selfish,” he confessed, teeth gritted. His fingers were starting to squeeze, and Lucette stilled as he breathed hot against her neck. “I hate the thought of other men courting you. I’m sure they’d all be dreaming of doing this.”

“Dreaming of doing what?”

Rod had begun to kiss her neck, and Lucette squirmed when she felt the wet graze of teeth. His hands cupped covetously over her breasts, massaging her through her shirt and brassiere, and his mouthing grew feverish as his thumbs swept the hard peaks of her nipples.

“Touching you,” he breathed.

They’d tumbled back to the grass, and Lucette barely noticed the knocked glasses beside them. Lemonade soaked into the ground as the warm weight of Rod’s body bore down atop her. Her eyelashes fluttered as they kissed, and all she saw was blue—the blue of his lidded eyes, and the blue of the sky edging her vision beyond him. 

“I’ve dreamt of this with you,” she murmured, caressing Rod beneath his shirt. His skin was smooth over lean muscle, burning hot and slightly damp with sweat. A groan escaped his throat as he ground his lap against her thigh, and Lucette’s eyes widened when she felt his straining hardness.

“I’ve wanted you, Lucette. You have no idea…” Rod trailed off, panting, as he fumbled to pull up her skirt. Lucette gasped as his fingers stroked between her legs; she was blazingly sensitive through her underwear, and she could feel that the satin he touched was slippery wet. Her surprise was smothered as Rod reclaimed her parted mouth.

“…The things I…” His words were incoherent amidst their eager kisses and huffs of breath. “…Want to do to you…”

The loud crack of a snapped twig sounded nearby, and they jolted abruptly. Rod froze for a split second before pulling off; Lucette propped herself on her elbows and turned her head to look, heart pounding.

A large stag stood at the glade’s perimeter. It fixated upon them with a curious gaze, and then gave a chuff before trotting away into the forest. Lucette sighed; she reached again for Rod as relieved mirth spread across her face, but her amusement faded when he moved back from her grasp.

“Lucette… We shouldn’t do this.” Rod’s voice was suddenly serious, and his mouth twisted with discomfort. “What if the man you end up marrying finds out that you’ve already shared yourself? With your own brother?” He rose to his feet and proceeded to rearrange his shirt, clearly unnerved.

Lucette was stunned by his words, and even more taken aback by the surge of hurt that clenched her chest.

“You’re being ridiculous.” She was embarrassed by how her voice quavered with emotion. “I said I want to be with you. Won’t you simply believe me?”

Rod cast her a pained expression. “I’ve said too much out loud. I’m sorry.”

“I have no hesitations,” Lucette said. She stared at him, chin high. “The people of Angielle will respect my choice, even if I have to go down the streets and ask them myself. Father and Ophelia will come to understand.” She swallowed, and her fingers curled in the grass as she held Rod’s gaze. “The only one who will end us is you.”

In spite of his flushed face and disheveled hair, Rod had managed to secure his stoic demeanor, and he looked at her with a tight jaw and apologetic eyes. “I just want to make sure that we do what’s right,” he said softly. “I have my language studies to attend soon, and I need to change clothes. Shall we head back now?”

He held out his hand to help Lucette up, but she remained sitting.

“I don’t need to return until later,” she answered. Her heart was still banging in her ribcage. “Go without me.”

Rod acquiesced, and stinging nettles of rejection pricked inside of Lucette as she watched him depart and disappear beyond the trees. The sky clouded overhead; with her mouth set in a grim line, she spent the remainder of her stay feeding the picnic to the birds.

* * *

The rest of Lucette’s day passed with no further sight of Rod. She stayed late at the Marchen after her magic instruction to eat dinner with Delora and Parfait, partly to spend more time with her mentors, but also to avoid dinner at the palace. What she’d said to Rod about planning to decline the ball was true, and she knew speaking to her father was inevitable, yet the prospect of disappointing him made her stomach churn nonetheless. In spite of her exhaustion, by the time she settled into bed, her mind was wide awake and swirling with conflicted thoughts.

_“Wouldn’t you just see it through? Perhaps you’ll change your mind. Our parents would appreciate it if you at least tried.”_

_“What if the man you end up marrying finds out that you’ve already shared yourself?”_

_“I just want to make sure that we do what’s right.”_

Rod’s words from earlier echoed through Lucette’s head. She stared at the slant of moonlight streaked across her bedroom ceiling; her heart felt heavy and aching. Perhaps she’d been unfair to pressure Rod the way she had. He wasn’t a woman, and he was even younger than she was; the social expectation to declare a romantic partnership wouldn’t bear down upon him for a long time. Being in love with her didn’t mean that he would want to brave a public commitment at such an early age. And even if he did, he could still recognize the decision as nearsighted. Lucette understood that logic, but the thought stung all the same. 

Was she selfish? Rod had loved Viorica before Lucette, and surely he could love another after. As could Lucette, as unfathomable as it currently seemed. Rod’s history with Viorica demonstrated his extreme dedication to prioritizing the best interests of loved ones above his own; maybe he believed that once again, Lucette would be happier long-term if he bowed out to the sidelines.

Lucette shifted onto her side, and her gaze fell upon her shelves of dolls. They looked back with pretty glass eyes and painted smiles. The lonely days when talking to dolls provided her a semblance of comfort and reassurance now seemed like an eternity ago.

“What should I do?” she whispered.

Of course, the dolls gave no answer. They reminded her of Rod, stone-faced and laconic, and it was this wry comparison that struck Lucette with the obvious solution to her conundrum—the absence of a clear yes was equivalent to a no, and if Rod couldn’t unambiguously communicate his interest in revealing their relationship, then he wasn’t ready. It wasn’t Lucette’s job to guess at his deepest, truest desires; as much as she attempted to understand him, ultimately, Rod could only speak for himself.

He wasn’t making efforts for a real future with her, and in that light there was no reason to reject her upcoming ball. She would amend her stance with Rod tomorrow and express acceptance to her father’s proposition. The clarity of a settled decision lifted Lucette’s fog of unrest, and she closed her eyes to finally sleep. 

Just as she began to drift from consciousness, a quiet knock at her door startled her awake. She frowned and slipped off the bed to answer, adjusting her silk nightgown and unsure of who to expect.

She opened the door to discover Rod. He stood there solemnly, dressed in his princely garb and with his blond hair combed neatly.

“Lucette, I’d like to talk with you. Is it okay to come in?” he said, voice low. Lucette cast a furtive glance down the dim corridor before ushering him inside and shutting the door.

“It’s late,” she said pointedly. Rod never visited her room by himself, let alone at night; the palace guards and servants were all too fond of gossip. Lucette had never discussed this with him, but it seemed tacit that spending time in each other’s bedrooms was a bad idea.

“I wanted to find you earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt you at the Marchen, and you didn’t return until after dinner.” Rod stood awkwardly beside her dresser, arms folded. He hesitated before walking over and seating himself on the edge of the bed; something about the sight of Rod amidst her rumpled sheets made Lucette’s heart pound oddly. He gestured for her to join, and she sat beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is a really horrid place to end a chapter, and I'm sorry! I originally wanted to post this as a completed one-shot in which Rod and Lucette finally go public with their relationship, but I got cursed with a case of smutblock and didn't finish. I had this WIP languishing on my laptop for ages and figured I might as well just post what I've written, lest none of it ever see the sun. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Cheers to Dicesuki for giving us such a charming game.


End file.
